Laying Ghosts to rest

I interviewed Dr. MAX PEMBERTON on Friday, the last person to talk to me before I started my two week break. He is incredible.

Tall, blonde, blue eyed, clever, committed and funny. His book WHERE DOES IT HURT, has been snaffled by the old git but I fully intend to wrestle it back.

Max and I spent over two hours in Fiori coffee bar, chatting over cappuccino and my prerequisite cream cheese bagel before I dashed back to the flat. Washed my face and jumped in the car to meet B for our second Hackney Kebab of the week.
We were meeting Annie, B's Godmother, to give her sunflowers, secateurs, and hugs for her birthday. She had gone to see Jim in the play so B and I took the opportunity to eat, meet and greet her.

By the time I got to the flat I was over-fed, over-tired and over-there.

Not surprisingly I got up at 10.00 and was really cheesed off for having slept through Suggs on Fi Glovers show.
Jim and I scrapped over Cornflakes, then I left my flat at 11.35 drove to The Edgware Road, swung round towards Lords Cricket ground, headed down the A1 and landed in Boreham Wood by 12.09.

My mother fell into The Little Red Nellie, I turned her round, that's the car not the mother, and we headed off for The Holloway Road, with the wind behind us it took no time to get to the Seven Sister Road where we marvelled at all the Arsenal fans, munching on chips, splattering sauce down their red Emirate shirts and dribbling cola on their red and white scarves. Left down Amhurst Park into Stoke Newington where all the Orthodox Jews were strolling to and from the Synagogue. Kids with curls, mums with wigs and dads with doughnut fur hats, all Kosher of course. Round the houses and left into Kingsland High road before spending £12 quid to park the car. I later learnt I could have parked it for free behind the theatre, scant comfort now.

My mother and I ate lunch at MANGALS, the best little Turkish Restaurant in town, B joined us for another lamb kebab then off she went, back to her flat to write, whilst my mother and I took our seats for the last matinee of Jim's GHOSTS. We both cried, the whole cast was good, but my old man was the apple of his mother-in-laws eye,
He looked like a little brat from the Hovis advert, and this afternoon he didn't miss a trick.

I then drove my mother back to Hertfordshire. It took us forever to get through the returning Arsenal revellers, who may I add, beat their opponents 4-1. I know that because I called Dan, the nephew, who as a staunch Spurs fan resented the score. He invited me to run over as many Gooners as I could. Today I understood the rivalry between the two North London teams; Tottenham and Arsenal are geographically up each others bums.

By the time we got to Boreham Wood it was 6.45 So we went to TESCOS- forgive me I had no choice - to buy Jim's birthday breakfast . Tomorrow Dan has requested a full English. So Dan, Isi, Dom, Brad, Jim and B, if she gets up in time, will partake of sausages, bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, fresh coffee, gallons of juice, bubbly if anybody can stand it, and mountans of toast.
I didn't like any of the cakes so I bought a huge tomato in which I will stick a candle. Well why not the 'oosbind won't even notice.

I dropped my mother off then drove the mile up to my brother and his wife who were baby sitting their grandsons. Took a stroll around their incredible garden, all decking and delicious blooms, finished off their take away Chinese, and then made them sit through B's demo. My brother thought it was excellent which will make B's day, my sister-in-law, an ex-Who fan, tried to define B's genre then shook her black mane. I said she looked like a gypsy which isn't surprising since she told me she had Romany blood.

I left the washing up to my brother and left at 9.00 for Hackney. The return journey was as easy as the first time round. I got to the theatre by 10.00 had a bottle of beer and Jim hugged all the actors who hugged each other and promised that they would all keep in touch. Met a jeweller who makes lovely things out of tiny beads and who promised to make me a Star of David for my daughter, and there it was the end of GHOSTS . Jim and I set off in convoy.

Down Kingsland High Road with all the kebab shops lit up and people spilling out onto the pavement from all the trendy of bars, through Shoreditch where even more people spilled out over even more pavements from even trendier bars, round to Tower bridge, down the embankment and over Southwark Bridge, all little and green. Right to the IMAX, down past Waterloo Station, round to the new Plaza Hotel which looks like a Las Vegas bordello, past St. Thomas' Hospital and over Lambeth Bridge, along the embankment back over Battersea Bridge and into the car park. Now 11.45. I needed jim to help me with his birthday breakfast bags, up in the lift and we unloaded.

I have finally got a pedal bin for the kitchen £7.95 from Tescos. I asked Jim whether it was a bargain he said he didn't have a clue, and neither do I so if I want it to be a bargain it can be.

Now my left eye is weeping on account of the fan in the bedroom, and that's not one of my listeners it's the oldest form or air conditioning. I need to turn it slightly East-South east, because although it keeps me cool it has given me influenza of the eyeball.

I feel sick from the quorn escallop Jim and I have just eaten, so its time for some shut-eye, all be it that it'll be a watery one, a new book at bedtime and an early start to cook the fry up.

Spurs are playing West Ham tomorrow, I wonder whether Tottenham will be full of blue shirted supporters dribbling sauce down their blue and white scarves? It makes no never mind because I am not schlepping all the way back to North London to find out.